The air in the middle of the forest was thick, almost oppressive. Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the towering leaves, casting fractured shadows that shifted with the wind. The damp earth carried a faint scent of cursed energy, swirling subtly around them.
It had been over a weeks since Megumi became Reika's personal mentor, and for the first time since then, he felt like he was truly about to uncover something. Something that would answer all the questions in his mind.
They had been fighting for nearly an hour—a seamless exchange of attacks, so fast and fluid that anyone watching from the outside might think they were dancing between the trees. Megumi was beginning to understand Reika's movement patterns, the nearly nonexistent openings in her attacks, the way she played it safe without ever truly exposing herself. Reika, on the other hand, remained as calm as a stone, but Megumi could feel the tension in her now.
And that was exactly what he wanted.
Megumi leaped back, stepping onto a tree trunk and landing lightly on the ground. His right hand slowly lifted, then—
"Divine Dog: Totality."
A shadow rippled beneath him, forming a grinning silhouette with sharp fangs. But that wasn't enough. Megumi didn't just want to intimidate. He wanted to test something.
So he took a stance, his lips forming the words of a chant he hadn't used in a long time. "Eight-Handled Sword Divergent Sila Divine General—" Reika saw it. And for the first time since the fight began, her eyes widened.
Mahoraga.
No.
A flash of blue erupted from her palm, distorting the air with an almost imperceptible twist. It lasted only for a fraction of a second, as quick as a blink, but Megumi saw it. He saw it clearly.
That wasn't Reika's technique. That wasn't something anyone possessed—except for one person.
Gojo Satoru.
The world felt as though it had stopped. Reika froze, her mind spinning wildly.
Shit.
She had reacted too fast. No. This was worse than that. She had let herself get carried away. Before she could fix her expression, before she could find a way to defuse the situation, Megumi was already in front of her.
With a single swift movement, he closed the distance, pressing her against a tree, his arm raised to keep her in place. They were so close that she could feel his breath, still slightly uneven from the fight.
Reika couldn't move.
Not because Megumi was stopping her, but because for the first time in her life, she had no idea what to do.
Megumi stared at her, his dark eyes filled with emotions on the verge of erupting. For the past weeks, he had been trying to understand Reika, trying to figure out what was wrong with this girl, what she was hiding. And now, he finally had an answer—or at least, a piece of undeniable evidence.
"Explain," his voice was low, almost a growl. Reika remained silent. A mistake. A fatal mistake.
Her eyes traced Megumi's face, assessing the energy flowing around him. This wasn't just Megumi Fushiguro. This was someone who carried the blood of Toji Zenin.
And Reika… could feel it.
There was something inside Megumi that she couldn't ignore. Something that felt dangerous in an entirely different way.
They stood there, locked in silence, for what felt like forever. Reika swallowed, her lips curling into a faint, almost imperceptible smile.
Silence.
Suddenly, the sound of the wind rushing through the trees felt distant. Even the whisper of leaves seemed as if it came from another dimension.
All that remained was the two of them.
Megumi, his chest rising and falling too fast for someone who should have control over his emotions. Reika still pinned against the tree trunk, her expression too perfectly blank to be called calm.
Megumi felt his blood roar in his veins. Adrenaline still danced at the edge of his nerves—not from the fight, but from the undeniable truth he had just witnessed with his own eyes.
That wasn't his imagination.
That technique—Blue—Gojo Satoru's signature ability. A technique only the Gojo clan could use.
So why could Reika use it?
His breathing was still heavy as his hand shot forward, grabbing the collar of Reika's Jujutsu uniform.
"ANSWER ME! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"
His voice cracked through the air, reverberating between the trees. It didn't waver, didn't hesitate—only carried a crushing weight, demanding the truth.
Reika could feel the heat of his breath against her face, could see the fury flashing in his dark eyes.
But she remained silent. There was no point in speaking now. She had already made one mistake today—the first in centuries.
There would be no second. Megumi's grip tightened, fingers digging in so hard his knuckles turned white.
If this were anyone else, Reika would have already torn them apart. Would have already devoured them down to the bone. But this was Megumi Fushiguro. And Megumi Fushiguro was not just anyone.
Their gazes clashed in a silent war—one side burning with anger and uncertainty, the other standing at the edge of a precipice, trying to balance between danger and destruction.
Megumi waited. Reika said nothing. Then, in one swift motion, Megumi yanked her closer. The space between them vanished. Reika's eyes narrowed.
For the first time, she could truly see Megumi's expression up close. Not just anger. Not just frustration. But pain. A wound unseen. A wound that would never heal. A wound named Gojo Satoru.
"…You think I can trust you after this?" Megumi's voice was low, sharp—like a blade pressed against skin, not cutting yet, but close enough to leave a phantom sting.
Reika could still smell the faint trace of blood and sweat from their fight. She could still hear Megumi's heartbeat pounding in his chest.
She could say something now. Something to ease the tension. Something to extinguish the fire threatening to consume the man before her.
But she didn't. Instead, she did only one thing. She smiled. Not wide, not arrogant—just enough. Enough to make Megumi even angrier.
A smile that said, "You will never know." And at that moment, Megumi finally lost his patience.
—You will never know.
That smile.
A smile that should have meant nothing, yet it felt like an invisible hand tightening around his throat, like a dagger plunging straight into his heart.
Something inside Megumi cracked. He couldn't stand it. He couldn't let it go. "—You're unbelievable." His voice was barely above a whisper, but it was far more dangerous than a shout.
Without warning, cursed energy erupted from his body—wild, raw, and cold as the fury he had been holding back. Reika didn't move. But she knew. Megumi Fushiguro was done playing around.
The ground beneath them trembled, the air shifted. Shadows twisted violently, converging behind Megumi.
Mahoraga.
It hadn't fully materialized yet, but its looming silhouette was enough to make the trees creak as if they were screaming.
Megumi didn't care if this was too much. He needed answers. And silence wasn't an answer. He would—
—"That's enough."
The voice came suddenly. Too close. Too firm. Before Megumi could react, a hand pulled him away from Reika.
Yuuji.
Emerging from the shadows like a ghost. In an instant, the suffocating tension in the air came to a halt, like a tangled thread on the verge of snapping being held in place.
Reika remained against the tree. Megumi was still consumed by rage. And Yuuji… Yuuji didn't look angry. He just looked tired.
Megumi struggled, but Yuuji's grip on his shoulder was firm. "Calm down." Yuuji's voice was lower than usual, almost an order.
But Megumi couldn't calm down. How could he? He pointed at Reika, still burning with fury. "She used Satoru's technique!"
Silence. But this time, it was different. Reika watched as Yuuji's expression shifted in a split second. He didn't look shocked.
…He already knew. Megumi's eyes narrowed sharply. Yuuji exhaled slowly. "...I saw."
Reika straightened slightly. Megumi turned to him, disbelief and betrayal flashing across his face. "You saw?" He waited for an answer, but Yuuji said nothing.
Megumi let out a short, humorless laugh. "You saw, and you did nothing?" His voice was lower now, sharper, colder. "Do you realize what this means?!"
He couldn't believe it. Yuuji knew something. And he kept it to himself. For how long? Until it was too late?
Or… Until Reika herself ended them all?
The once silent forest began to feel… hot. Not because of the argument between Megumi, Yuuji, and Reika. Not because of the tension that had just reached its peak.
But because the air around them changed. It thickened. Dried out. Like fire taking a deep breath before consuming everything in its path.
Megumi, still burning with anger, suddenly went rigid. Yuuji? He felt it too. An aura that shouldn't exist in this world anymore.
WUSH!
A blast of heat struck the ground, carving out a crater and instantly igniting the surrounding vegetation.
A figure stood at the center of the flames—unchanged in height, but his eyes burned like embers heated to pure white. His skin was no longer just molten rock; it was living magma, shifting and pulsing as if ready to melt everything in its wake.
Jogo. Or… something more than Jogo.
That arrogant grin was still there, etched onto his face despite the cracks that remained. But this time, his presence was undeniable.
"It's been a while, kids." Yuuji and Megumi instinctively fell into defensive stances.
How?
Jogo was dead.
Reika? She was surprised too—but not as much as the other two. Not because she was calmer, but because she had never seen something like this before.
There was something wrong. Something inside Jogo that should not exist in a cursed spirit. This wasn't just Jogo. This was something much, much bigger.